


The Boggart

by watson_amo_holmes



Series: Unlikely Attraction - The Potterlock Series [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, Fluff, Gryffindor John, Harry Potter AU, Hufflepuff Sherlock, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-27
Updated: 2014-01-27
Packaged: 2018-01-10 05:06:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1155452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/watson_amo_holmes/pseuds/watson_amo_holmes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In a class full of students and a Bogart to overcome, there's one fear that John can't comprehend.</p><p>Johnlock fluffiness and a Harry Potter AU so WOOOO!</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Boggart

**Author's Note:**

> So here’s just a short little oneshot to satisfy your Harry Potter AU Johnlock feels (you’re welcome). I got inspired by this   
> [link](http://mindpalaceofversailles.tumblr.com/post/54185416122/obviously-their-boggarts-would-be-each-others)  
> PS. Thanks seeyouinhell for linking me!! I don't know what I would do if I didn't find the artist. If you guys are on Tumblr, go follow them if you like Potterlock! Their art is amazing!
> 
> I hope y’all enjoy cause I’m a die-hard Sherlockian and Potterhead, so I was like hey, time to write a fic! I hope you enjoy.

John just stared at the image in front of him. The entire class was behind him and he couldn’t breathe.  He could feel Sherlock’s eyes boring into the back of his head as he stood there; frozen. Professor Lupin looked over, but the entire class followed the gaze of the blonde Gryffindor. Blood was pouring out from under the doors of the wardrobe and out fell a battered and bloody Sherlock who remained lifeless on the floor. Everyone’s boggart was a spider or an intimidating teacher like Snape; no-one’s had even been close to this.

      The boggart that was in every way, shape and form, identical to Sherlock, laid dead on the wooden floor of the classroom. He had blood pooling around his head and coming out of his nose and ears. Dark, thick, red blood was everywhere he could see on the body and Sherlock was abnormally paler than usual. His neck was slanted at a sickening angle, making it appear to be broken, and the side that wasn’t in the scarlet fluid remained clean. Every bone in the man’s body looked to be dislocated or fractured in the most painful way.

      “Jo-John?” Sherlock whispered in his ear, concern lacing his every syllable.

“It’s okay, it isn’t real, all right? Riddikulus. Come on,” the Hufflepuff added, gently resting his hands on his shoulders and stroking the shorter boy’s arm. He looked over to where he saw himself white as a sheet, contrasting greatly to the ruby liquid that was inching its way towards John’s feet.

 John now had floods of tears streaming down his face and he was noticeably shaking. The whole room fell silent and all that could be heard was his quiet sobs and hyperventilating.

    The professor thought about performing the charm himself due to the fact that his student was clearly traumatised by the sight, but decided finally that Sherlock had it under control. John needed to know how to handle boggarts otherwise he’d never pass his OWLs. Reluctantly, he stepped away from the scene, but clutched his wand tightly, just in case.

      Sherlock couldn’t stop himself from hugging John as tightly as he possibly could. Right now he really couldn't care about the two of them being called gay, he just wanted to make his best friend smile again which was impossible considering the circumstances.  

      John was making incoherent noises as his eyes simply couldn’t move from the beautiful boy that looked so broken and horribly torn up that all he wanted to do was run over to the boggart just so he could hold his hand and tell him he was sorry and that he loved him and… and…

   “I- I can’t ...” John sobbed as his jaw refused to close the small ‘O’ that been there for the past 5 minutes. His brows were raised in sadness and the tears were just beginning to get worse. The Gryffinndor’s grip on his wand was extremely loose and the piece of wood that had been made uniquely for him clattered to the floor.

    It was in that moment that Sherlock stepped in front of John, almost as if to shield him, and racked his endless mind palace for something ridiculous as the name would suggest. He tapped his wand impatiently against his left hand and when he came up with nothing, he thought about his best friend, what his sense of humor thinks is hilarious. His brain flickered to every laugh and smile that John had shared with him and only him, and pondered on what he could do. Then something occurred to him.

     “Riddikulus!” Sherlock belted, pointing his wand and twisting, slightly surprised his lungs could even emit a sound as loud as that.

The blood absorbed back into the body, a mini tornado took place, and there stood a reflection of himself. Completely identical, black hair, ice blue eyes, thin frame, but wrapped waist down in a white sheet which Sherlock remembered he wore to go see the headmaster in, regardless of the fact that he was stark naked beneath the thin piece of linen.

      “Oh do shut up. It’s not my fault of how much idiocy is in the room. You’re decreasing the IQ of the whole school just by opening that black hole of a mouth,” The boggart said sarcastically.  

   John laughed so quietly that only Sherlock could hear it through his sobs and made a happy choked sound that made his arms wrap around the blonde’s waist, slightly afraid of letting him go after what had happened. The Hufflepuff showered the top of his head with kisses, ignoring the groans of the students. They were irrelevant.

   “Ahem,” Professer Lupin coughed, smiling slightly at the two of them.

“Sorry,” John and Sherlock replied in unison, untangling themselves from each other and side stepping away, only for Sherlock's hand to creep behind the other’s back, stroking the spot at the bottom of John's spine, something he knew calmed him, as well as being one of his many sweet spots.

       John closed his eyes slightly and shivered, but this time due to the fact that his best friend’s fingers were doing wonders. His breathing slowed down and as soon as they both left the door, they hugged for a solid 2 minutes, with Sherlock continuously mumbling, “I love you” subconsciously.

     “What?” John said, as he pulled back for a minute to look into Sherlock's eyes to see if he was being genuine. Hugging, platonic head/nose kisses, and sharing a bed was just their thing, but he never thought of Sherlock like that. He couldn't be serious, could he?

    “Hm, what?” Sherlock looked up, as if he had just been awoken from a trance, his eyes hazy, completely unaware of who he was or why he was being asked such a vague question.

 This is what John loved. The boy in front of him was not easily wavered; he made crazy deductions that could unravel every hidden secret from anyone, and the only one that could make that insane brain of his cloud over was John.

    “Did you just say you love me?” John replied teasingly, lightly stabbing Sherlock’s chest with his finger. His voice was still hoarse and gravelly from crying, but he still tried to sound as cheerful as possible.

    “And? So what if I did? You terrified me back there,” Sherlock stated with all seriousness.

“I’m pretty sure anyone who saw their own dead body would be pretty freaked too, you know” John responded as if stating the obvious.

“I wasn’t talking about me. I hate to see you cry. Why are you so afraid of me dying anyway? It’s not like it’s going to happen anytime soon. The death threats from the agonising idiots of Hogwarts are hardly terrifying…”

    “I don’t even think I know myself. I’m just scared of losing you."

“Well, you won’t lose me. I’m not going anywhere.” Sherlock hugged John impossibly tighter as if to illustrate what he was saying.

“But what about when we leave?” John couldn’t help but ask. He’d left so many friends behind in the muggle world. He didn’t know if he could breathe without this porcelain perfection.

       “Then we’ll go out to celebrate the refreshing freedom from a school full of brainless dimwits. I won’t just pack my bags and leave to become a detective and forget about you. People hate that I’m going to be doing a ‘muggle’ job, but you and I both know that we’re gonna live like an old married couple till the day we die,”

    “You swear?”

“Yes, John. I swear,” Sherlock breathed a laugh.

     What happened next was far from what John expected. Sherlock leant down slowly and pressed his lips against his. He didn’t dare move; he was too far into shock to even comprehend what was going on, but within a few seconds, when Sherlock was about to pull away, John’s hands latched on to his waist and moved their lips in sync with one another. It was a strange, unfamiliar feeling to be kissing Sherlock, but damn, did it feel good. For someone so inexperienced, Sherlock was a god when it came to this. He bit into John’s lip lightly before pulling away and resting their heads together.

     “Hey,” Sherlock whispered breathless.

“Hi,” John laughed, resting his head in the space between the Hufflepuff’s shoulder and neck. Enjoying the feeling of Sherlock’s hands on his hips and aware that this would definitely start rumours, but for once, he didn’t care. All John knew is that this boy had stumbled into his heart before he was even aware Sherlock was in there. Lucky they still had 30 minutes of lunch break to be sappy and make Sherlock squirm with the romantic side of him that he had coax out. This should be fun. Very fun indeed. 

**Author's Note:**

> Well that was... something. I hope you liked it! I do congratulate myself in speed writing. If you want to kudos and bookmark, I'd be very humbled.  
> I originally put Sherlock in Hufflepuff because the ties in the picture couldn't be seen properly in the tiny screen of my iPhone. I've changed his house from Ravenclaw and back again, but now I've decided. Sherlock's got the characteristics of all the houses, so it makes sense to put the boy in freaking Hufflepuff. 
> 
> HA! YOU THOUGHT I WAS DONE! PLOT TWIST... Changing it does say a lot about me, though. I'm admittedly scared of being different. Uniqueness is seen as wrong, and that's just bizarre. Don't change for anyone. Be yourself, no matter what f*cking house the author chucks you in :P. 
> 
> Now I'm done. Thank you for reading. It makes me smile wide enough to split my face in two when I see y'all giving Kudos and bookmarks. PS. I love you. xxxx


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